


A Place To Hide Away

by MiaChia123



Category: Gears of War (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Cole is the best person for Baird, Damon Baird Angst, Damon Baird does not know how to process negative emotions, Gen, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Childhood Trauma, Losing a friend, Minor Character Death, Platonic Love, Starts in the middle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25471636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaChia123/pseuds/MiaChia123
Summary: The fate of Alonzo and Dickson of Foxtrot-Six. Baird and Cole’s reaction to loss. (A small snippet from a larger Gears of War story that I'm working on.)(Title referenced from “Yesterday” by The Beatles)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	A Place To Hide Away

The adrenaline ebbs all too soon, and then he’s left with the sticky residue emotion of fear. And he hates being afraid.

Other emotions have grown and altered with him. Other emotions have adapted to different situations as they should; the happiness you feel over your first kiss shouldn’t be the same kind of happiness that comes with getting married.

Sadness is losing a toy or losing a pet.

Anger is getting fired or getting dumped.

What he hates most about fear is that he can’t differentiate it. That it hasn’t evolved from the primitive thing borne into him at the age of five. He experiences fear now the exact same way he did back then; a primal feeling that evokes confusion and smallness and palpitations. It settles in his gut like ice cubes.

Fear is finding out that parents can hit one another in the same way that fear is holding another man’s neck closed as he bleeds out anyway. There is no divide. There is no difference.

“Alonzo, just hold on, man, okay? I’m here, you’re going to be okay.”

He tries to ground himself, to ignore the ice cubes. His hands are slick. They’re slipping.

Alonzo’s eyes are wide, blinking often, searching with the intensity of someone who is very, very lost. His breaths are shorter, quicker. He starts to make a sound. His vocal chords are working but he’s not trying for words.

Baird presses, and presses, and presses. He tells Alonzo all the lies soldiers keep in reserve for a bad situation. Things that sound plausible at least some of the time.

But Alonzo’s last few breaths come out like animal noises anyway. Gurgling and harried and terrified.

He does not die like someone who’s been properly comforted.

His body stops convulsing at the same time Cole stops firing his gun, and then all is silence.

“Alonzo?” Baird knows he’s dead. He just can’t bring himself to acknowledge it yet. Can’t really believe that nine years spent with a person can end on an old rooftop, in a big puddle of blood. He’s still holding tight pressure. He’s still shaking like a leaf. “Hey, Mikey?”

A hand on his shoulder. A pat. Cole doesn’t leave his side, not for the three minutes of stillness it takes for Baird to learn how to breathe again.

Finally, he pushes himself to his feet.

“Call it in, okay?” he says to Cole, who just nods and sniffles and nods. Baird doesn’t have any tears. All he has is fear that’s quickly turning over to rage.

He goes inside so Cole doesn’t see it, because this has always been their arrangement; privacy based around whatever emotions Baird doesn’t feel like sharing. 

The door slams.

Destruction has always been his cure for anger. It’s been cathartic where deep breaths and watercolors simply haven’t. Making a physical mess out of an emotional one is a fair tradeoff to him.

By the time he’s done, fifteen minutes have passed, and there are three new holes in the wall. His knuckles are purple and swollen. He’s drained enough to go back outside, but he doesn’t feel any better.

Cole is sitting on one of the vents. He gets up when he sees Baird.

“You call control?” Baird asks, ambling over. Cole nods, reaching into his pocket and grabbing a handkerchief. Without a word, he starts wiping Baird’s face, and that’s when Baird realizes that he must’ve gotten Alonzo’s blood all over himself. He’s too shaken by the thought to protest.

Finally, Cole sits back down, and Baird settles next to him.

“He had a girlfriend, you know?” Cole offers, testing the waters of conversation. He’s considerate like that; leaving it up to Baird whether or not he feels like talking.

“Dodie,” he says, remembering the name because he thought it was a strange one. “Her name’s Dodie.”

Alonzo had always talked about her like a teenager; all innocent declarations of true love and happily-ever-afters. He swore up and down they’d get married one day. He wanted however many children she did, as long as he got a dog out of the deal.

Baird shakes his head, trying not to remember all the times he’d told Alonzo to just shut the fuck up about her.

They lapse into silence, the two of them, always them eventually. They wait for the King Raven to pick them up, and then they wait to be assigned a new unit, and then they wait to do it all over again tomorrow.

Somewhere, a bird chirps its morning song. Alonzo and Dickson are gone. The air up here smells like copper. It’s not even noon.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Just wanted to pop in and say hello, since I haven't uploaded in around two years...I am still working on "Thanks for Listening" if anyone is still interested!


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